Aging

My kids are growing up. It's kind of freaking me out. They are all growing into their gifts and although it's sooooo wonderful it's also kind of scary. I don't know why. I've got one rockin' the drums and playing basketball, one playing electric and joining air cadets(he's all over it), one dancing and performing and playing any instrument she can get her hands on. Perhaps they don't need me as much.

I'm getting old. I feel so much like a grown up lately it's actually kind of sad. I wonder how my grandma dealt with that? How did my mom? Or did you just become an adult and that was the end of it? I am making decisions for myself and for my kids based on character traits I am trying to develop in them, model myself (and honestly, sometimes it's more for me than them). I was struck by the fact this morning, with my birthday getting closer with every passing day, that I am becoming increasingly in danger of getting old. Like over the hill. Like, white haired and wrinkly. K- I'm not really that close. And I'm not as vain as to become completely freaked out by my own aging body but....girl give me hair dye. My nana was white at a super young age and I have to say I see some salt'n'peppa.

Alot of things are changing and I realize I'm at the age of a generation passing on, suppporting others through tragic circumstances, marriages breaking up and well...just change. Change is happening at work and I'm over qualified for my job, so more change is going to happen. Rest eludes me(but never sleep) and there's never enough time to read. With age comes so many wonderful things too. Insight, wisdom, experience, good boundaries, great legs....haha. Perseverance to accomplish dreams. Seeing your kids growing and becoming who they were meant to be.

There's a trade off I suppose. I'm so glad that I was warned my wonderful nana that this would happen. That I would feel like a 20 year old in an aging body. (although I feel considerably better than I did at 20 - ya'll know what I'm talking about). I guess the answer is to read Reader's Digest, drink one rye and pepsi friday night, and walk 3 miles a day.



p.s. If you ever, and I mean EVER see a hair on my chin, or a mustache begins growing...you need to remind me of this conversation and tell me to get it waxed off. OFF! Because friends don't let friends grow facial hair.